Apocalyptic
by xXx Fox Trot xXx
Summary: Neither one of my brothers had ever been beaten in a fight, but I wasn’t exactly itching for someone to break the record.When someone finally does break the record, what can Ponyboy do to prevent one of his brother's untimly deaths? Better than it sounds
1. The Attack

**HEY GUYS! Guess who's back? That's right: Fox Trot is! All right, this is my first story in the series 'The Outsiders' and I'm just PRAYING that I kept the gang (what's left of it) in character. I'm really working on it. So please, tell me what you think and what I can improve on! THANKS!**

**PLEASE ENJOY AND REVIEW!**

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Apocalyptic

_Neither one of my brothers had ever been beaten in a fight, but I wasn't exactly itching for someone to break the record…(_The Outsiders, Page 143)

Sodapop Curtis grinned, looking pointedly at the Soc in front of him. Another stood behind him in the long and dark ally. A cigarette hung from the boy's lips in front of him; his madras jacket was a tan color and his hair was blonde. He looked proper, as do all Socs; like he could have just as easily been going to dinner with his girlfriend's parents than jumping a boy like Soda.

Soda himself stuck out like a sore thumb. He wore his usual black shirt with his torn blue jeans. He'd had the day off from work and had been sent into Soc territory for some groceries. When he'd told Darry he'd take on the job, he had no idea he'd have to deal with these bozos.

"Greaser," the Soc informed. "This is our turf."

"Like I didn't know!" Soda replied coolly. He quirked a brow. "Better yet: like I care."

The other boy smirked, his thin lips pulled up to one side. His blue eyes glinted in the streetlights. "You ain't even gonna fight back? Argue even?"

Soda stood strait, shrugging. "I ain't lookin' for a fight. I was just here for some food." He pointed slightly toward the plastic bag in his grip, then flashed one of his famous movie star smiles at the Socs. You know, the ones that make girls go weak in the knees. "So if I could just be on my merry…"

He took a step forward, but stopped.

A knife rested in the Socs hand; at least, he assumed it was, as it was pressed lightly on Soda's back. He couldn't much tell who was holding it. All he knew was it was kept sharp at all times.

"I thought that rumble'd taught you hoods a lesson in manners…" the boy behind him growled. Sodapop could feel his warm breath down his spine.

Soda didn't falter; he just rocked on his feet comfortably. "You forget that us 'hoods'-" he put up his fingers in quotations to emphasize this point- "won that rumble."

The Soc pushed the knife at Sodapop slightly harder to where he could feel the blade's cold metal prodding him in the back.

Then he smelled the alcohol on his breath. _Great…_ he thought, rolling his eyes._ So let alone are they serious, but they're drunk too…_

Leaning forward a little to avoid the blade, the brown-eyed boy said, "Again. I'm not here looking for trouble. You jump me here, and you're starting the ---- we all just got done with. Let me on my way, and we can forget all this!" He smirked slightly, confident that the boys would back down when he put it simply.

The boy smiled, ice eyes glinting in the moonlight dangerously. _He looks kinda like Dally…_ Soda thought dully, eyes narrowing. _I don't like that…_

"Not quite, grease." The boy in front of him said. "You see, this is about that '----' as you so kindly referred to it."

The sound of knuckles cracking echoed in the ally. Soda carefully moved away from the knife, turning his back to the wall so he could see the Socs. He'd been wrong about his odds; there were five against him. Hardly even by any standard. Soda calmly quirked a brow though his insides churned with anticipation of the first punch; a fight was inevitable at this point. He dropped his grocery bag on the dirt. "Whadaya mean?" he asked.

Soc #1, as Soda had so dutifully called him, answered. "We got a bud to spy on that kid, Ponyboy, who killed Bob. What better way to get back at him than with his favorite brother?" Chilling laughter erupted from the Socs; all eyes were on him and , for once, Soda didn't like it one bit. The blue-eyed Soc looked to him, finishing with, "Now he'll know how it feels to lose someone that important…"

Soda turned zero at the bone, fear gripping him. _They're gonna kill me!_ Soda thought, panicked. He readied himself as the first punch of many was thrown.

* * *

The next day, Darrel Curtis flipped open the paper to the front page. "Sodapop!" he called, walking into the kitchen. Ponyboy sat at the table, eggs cooked and cake laid out.

"G'mornin'." He greeted, smiling.

Darry shook his head. "Where's Soda?" he inquired, looking up at Pony. The younger's face was stricken.

"He didn't come home last night?"

"No."

Pony sat down. _That's not like him…_ he thought, blinking.

Suddenly, Darry dropped the newspaper, eyes wide. Quickly, he took a seat, resting his head in his hands; he averted his eyes from Pony purposely.

"What's wrong, Darry?" Curtis questioned, grabbing the older boy's shoulder.

"The paper… read it…" he said, his voice pained.

A sinking feeling settled into his stomach as he lifted the paper to his face. The feeling fell through him as he read the headline.

**Boy Found Dead In Ally**

**Who's Behind It?**

_The body of a boy believed to be Sodapop Curtis was found today on the East side of Tulsa…_

Pony dropped the paper , too, and fell to his knees, tears springing to his eyes. "No…" he whispered. Without warning, everything went black.


	2. Football and Bad Cake

**Hey guys! **

**I'm pleased to announce that the newest chapter of 'Apocalyptic' is out and ready for reading! **

**Sorry it took so long- I've been busy doing Grease for my school! YAY ME!**

**Anyways, please read and review and enjoy! Thanks!**

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**Apocalyptic**

I awoke the next morning screaming. I didn't know what had happened to cause this; all I knew was that Soda and Darry were sitting on top of my bed, shaking me something horrible.

"Pony, wake up! It's a dream!" Soda called, trying to hold me still. (Yeah, I'd realized by now they weren't shaking me; I was thrashing around in my sleep.)

My heartbeat calmed but sweat was still dripping down my back and forehead. I looked up at Darry and Soda.

Soda seemed to handling this a little better than Darry; he'd dealt with me like this for a few nights now and knew that I'd calm down when I woke up. His soft brown eyes were still worried, though, and he leaned off me when I stopped moving about so much.

Darry on the other hand was not as accepting. His ice-cold eyes were almost a liquid now, warm and worried at the same time. He still held to me fast, then asked, "What's going on? You all right?"

I leaned up, rubbing my head. "Yeah, Darry, I'm fine. Can you let go of my legs now?"

I happened to glean a glance toward the door. Two-Bit and Steve had their heads poked between the door, one on top of the other like you'd see in a cartoon. When they noticed me looking, they pulled away, though, like I wouldn't remember their being there. I smirked in spite of myself.

Soda brushed my brown hair back and smiled. Yeah, it was brown again; it'd grown out over the year since… the night of the rumble. (I still refused to refer to it as 'the night Johnny and Dally kicked the bucket'. The night of the rumble just seemed to have a bit more of a ring to it.) "You remember what it was that scared you?"

I gave him a kind of 'duh' look and told him, "No, I never do… Just that it had to do with you…"

I caught myself as I said that. How did I know it had to do with Soda?

Sodapop seemed to catch me, too, and so did Darry. "How do you know if you don't remember?" Darry asked me, taking his hands off my legs and sitting on the bed. By this time, Two-Bit and Steve had snuck completely in the room, peeking over the end of the bed. That kind of made me uncomfortable; Soda may like attention, but I don't.

I scooted away from them. "I dunno… I just know!"

I took a deep breath in the silence that followed, then looked back to Soda and Darry. "It's nothing…"

Soda seemed to agree, thus convincing the others, so we all went to the kitchen for some breakfast. The five of us might as well share a house now with how much Two-Bit and Steve stayed over.

Sodapop cooked, so our meal was… interesting… We all crowded around our food: blue eggs, doughy pancakes of an unnamable color, and a strange red liquid I think we were supposed to put on our pancakes. Only Darry had the spine to try it, and he didn't seem too fond of it, so most of us pushed it away.

It was a Sunday, so Soda, Steve, and Darry all had the day off work; Two-Bit and I were glad. No offense to Two-Bit, but I like hanging out with Darry and Soda, too. His jokes get kind of stale after a while and it get boring sneaking into movies- pardon me, the SAME movie- every day.

We all lounged in the kitchen, the stereo blasting as usual and Steve and Sodapop belting the lyrics. Once again, the two were playing cards. No table, though, as Steve didn't trust my brother enough anymore since he'd started sneaking an ace in his shoe. Darry was snoozing in the armchair and Two-Bit was watching some movie on TV. I was in my own world, though.

Ever since I woke up, I couldn't concentrate. It reminded me of after I woke up from my concussion; I was running into things and was spacey then, too. Maybe I got like this when I had one of those dreams…

That got me to thinking: what _did_ happen in that dream? It was peculiarly obvious that it had something to do with Sodapop. The fear I'd felt earlier that morning rose back in my gut as I thought about it. Something bad happened to Soda in my dream…

But it was so real; whatever it was felt far too realistic for my liking. I got that feeling like when I went into that church with Johnny a year back. Premonition its called I'm sure now…

Steve shook me from my thoughts and I mean literally. He'd taken my shoulder and was shaking me hard. "Pony, you coming or not?" he questioned, a steely glance locked on me. It was plain to see inviting me wherever had not been his idea.

"What are we doing?" I asked. Soda popped up behind Steve, reached around him, and grabbed my arm. "Come on! We're gonna play some football- the five of us!" he cheered, his brown eyes wild and dancing. How can you resist that? I always ask myself that. The answer? You can't, simple as that.

I allowed myself to be dragged outside by my jacket until the five of us branched off for the walk there. I listened as some of the boys carried on their crazy conversation pertaining to their favorite Elvis songs. More or less it was Two-Bit and Steve; Soda and Darry were having a quiet conversation away from us. They were in hushed voices, Soda looking oddly serious compared to his normal attitude and Darry leaning over to him to speak directly in his ear. My nose started to burn and I let out a loud sneeze.

A chorus of, "Bless you"s and "Gesundheit!" sounded in the moment's disturbance, but was soon forgotten as all went back to their respective conversations. Now I'm not usually superstitious, but this was one thing I did believe (since for me, it normally came true): when you sneeze, usually someone is talking about you. My gaze slid to Soda and Darry. It was more than likely them, since Howdy-Doody and Randle were still duking it out over 'Hound Dog' or 'Jail House Rock'.

I silently scooted behind them, my hands tucked in my pockets and my ears perked in concentration.

"That still doesn't explain it!" Darry chided, running a hand through his dark brown hair. "He's never remembered even a little of a dream before-"

"Suddenly he spouts off my name and we're all freaking out!" Soda said defensively. "Maybe it's just a coincidence; since he remembered something, it obviously can't be one of those dreams again!" (As he said this, I smiled and shook my head. His logic… Leave it to Soda to stick up for something off kilter.) Soda playfully slapped Darry on the stomach, smirking up at him "Let's just give it some time. If anything else comes up about this, then we can worry about it, all right?"

Darry sighed in defeat. "All right. I'm more worried about Pony's health now than yours… no offence…"

Soda replied, "None taken."

I shied back. _So that was why they vouched to play football…_ I thought. They wanted to wear me out so I couldn't dream- like the doctor had said.

Finally, the five of us reached the lot. Two-Bit took the football out from under his arm, smiling like a maniac. "We all know the rules." He announced tossing the ball in his hand. "Now to pick teams."

Instantly, Soda and Steve attached to each other and called, "We're a package!"

I smiled. An elementary trick wasn't too low for them. Darry gave on of his rare grins. "I'll take Pony. I don't think it's fair for three like us to take on the two of them…. Two-Bit'd way you down…" He added the last bit quietly in my ear and I smiled wider. What was funniest was it was true; Two-Bit had some ability in football, granted, but it was mostly in kicking. He couldn't throw a spiral very well or run too fast. But Darry could, and so could I.

"You'd better watch it!" Soda warned, pointing at me with a playful glare. "We're not goin' easy on you 'cause you're small!"

I crossed my arms. "I'd be insulted if you did."

Soda laughed, tossed the ball to me, and turned away to talk to his teammates. Apparently we were offensive first… I did likewise, only exception is that I only had Darry.

"All right," Darry began, leaning down on his knees to see me at eye level. "Let's try something new: I throw the ball to you and you run."

I chuckled. Leave it to Darry to use the same tactic we always did. Not that we were the only ones who did that…

If things worked out like I bet they would, Soda would charge Darry full blast- and miss. Two-Bit would soon follow. Darry would throw the ball to me, and I'd have to hurtle over Steve- who'll be diving toward my feet and miss- and then run toward the gold. Touchdown and the other team's ball.

I smiled as Soda's team broke and we lined up to play.

"Hike!"

Darry turned as the call was made; I was right. Soda sprinted head-on as usual toward Darry, but then he did something strange: Soda dove, grappling his arms around Darry's feet. Before Darry plummeted, he tossed the ball sloppily, and I ran up to catch it. Stumbling, I turned on my heel to see Two-Bit and Steve dashing toward me. I ducked under Two-Bit's insane leap… thing… and tore past Steve. Of course he chased after me, but I was still the best runner in the crew. I jogged past the goal line, Steve huffing twenty yards behind.

Quickly, I swaggered back to where everyone had bunched in the center of the field.

"We're done already?" I asked, plopping down by Two-Bit, who'd sat in the circle.

Sod smiled. "Yeah, I think…"

Darry flared over at him and Soda might as well have shrunk under his gaze. "Someone-" Darry accented this word dramatically-"twisted my ankle with that flying leap 'o his." He playfully slapped Sodapop over the head. "I'm gonna stay off it just in case; I still got work in the morning. So unless you wanna take on all three of 'em-" The ice-blue eyed boy thumbed toward the three goofs, who waved back idiotically. "we're going back to the house."

I sighed. "All right, let's go." Soda and I helped Darry to his feet and we all made our way back to the house without incident. It was nice. Since the rumble, there'd been peace between the greasers and the Socs. No one had been jumped yet and Soda and Steve got more and more reckless because of this. They missed the action, but Darry and I liked the quiet. Two-Bit didn't care either way.

At the house, we all crowded back into the kitchen. Darry said, "Pony, go get that cake from the freezer."

Soda and Steve perked up instantly from their bored stupor. Both jumped to their feet; fished through the freezer and produced the cake; Soda plopped it on the table. "Fresh by me!" he announced. I dragged some plates, forked, and a knife from the cabinet. Instantly, Soda dove it through and cut it into five pieces.

Two-Bit looked it over carefully, holding it at eye-level on the plate. "Is it sanitary?" he questioned, prodding it with his fork.

I shrugged (I hoped secretly that it was) and took a chunk from it. "Only one way to find out!" I replied. I put the cake in my mouth. It was bland and dull, tasting strongly of salt and unsifted flour.

I jumped from my chair and spit it quickly into the trashcan. You'll hopefully never have to taste Sodapop's failed cake attempts because when he screws up, it's a different type of food altogether.

Steve shot me a glare. "It can't be that bad." He crowed, taking a bite. Two-Bit followed his lead, but Darry wisely pushing it away, claiming he simply wasn't hungry. He trusted my opinion, whereas Steve would do anything just to go against what I had to say.

I watched in satisfaction as Steve and Two-Bit also rushed to the trashcan and spit the rotten cake into it.

Soda stood with his cake, gaping at our reaction. "Come on…" he moaned, "What's wrong with us.

The four of us huddled together and watched Soda take an overly large bite of the cake. (I think I was more worried he'd get sick or choke than that he'd see how badly it tasted.) By some miracle, he swallowed. He grimaced then, running and taking a deep drink from the sink at his reaction. The four of us laughed heartily. Bewildered, he looked back at us. "Oh…" he said. "I think I forgot the sugar…"

Like I've said before: you're never bored when you live with Sodapop.

We all continued laughing and Soda shot us one of those famous movie-star smiles. You know, the ones that make girls go-

_Wait, _I thought._ I remember this…_

A sharp pain jolted into my head, and it seemed as if the sunlight streaming through the window came to a focal point in my eyes. I grabbed my head, wincing as another wave of pain coursed through my head. Dazedly, I remember Soda walking over to me. Everyone was looking at me.

"Pony… You okay?" he asked, grabbing my shoulder.

I looked up at him, then cried out and pulled away. Something was off… It wasn't Soda I was looking at. Some mangled… something stood in his place.

The world around me swayed, shifting and pulling at me until we were in a dark, dank alley. Brick extended as high as I could see, the path in front of me empty… except for the fact that Soda was standing in it, surrounded by a pack of angry Socs.


	3. Discovery and Death

**Guess who's back? A double update... Not so shabby...**

**Enjoy and review! This is to all my readers who reviewed! Please continue to please me with your kind words, and I hope this is as good- if not better- than the previous chapters!**

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**Apocalyptic**

I put down my disgusting cake. People were right when they said I didn't put enough thought into what I cooked…

Darry grinned at me from where he sat. "You use your head for everything else, but you never can cook… Just sleep in tomorrow morning; Pony and I can cook. I prefer my health, personally."

Two-Bit looked at me from behind his cake, then looked down at it in concentration. "I would eat it…" he said, half tilting it on its side. "But I'm going to need some major sugar.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, Rum-Dum. The problem is getting it inside the cake."

The two laughed, and I have to say I was expecting Pony to start in on me, too. But he stayed strangely quiet.

Concerned by his silence, (but naturally unable to show it) I smiled and walked over to him. Pony's head was bowed, one arm across his torso and the other holding his head as if he were holding himself together. He did that when he got a headache or wasn't feeling too good; I think it was… um… subconscious or something…

"Hey Pony, you okay?" I asked, lightly grabbing his shoulder. I bent down to look him in the eyes and he half looked back at me.

I jumped away from his as he jerked out of my grasp. Behind me, I could hear Two-Bit swear and the three of them swivel around to see Pony. "Glory, Pony, don't yell like that!" the eighteen year old said, smirking.

No one else was smiling. Even remotely. Ponyboy fell into the cabinet, sliding down to the floor in a fetal position; he held his head in both hands now.

"Pony…?" Darry got up and kneeled beside him, though I stayed where I was. I leaned my hands knees and asked, "Pony, you okay?"

Glory, I could've kicked myself then. Of course he wasn't!

Wildly, he started to shake, mumbling something with intense passion. I dropped to my knees and leaned toward him, grabbing his arms forcefully. "Ponyboy, what's wrong?" I pleaded, concern flashing strong in my eyes. But he just continued to mutter fervently, and this time I understood him.

"Not Soda, not Soda, please not Soda… Don't hurt Soda… Not Soda, not Soda, please not Soda… Don't hurt Soda!"

The breath I had caught in my throat. I leaned away from him and Darry took over, prodding and begging for him to snap out of it. But it was to no avail, and it seemed as though no force in the 'verse could pull him back to us right then. Whatever he was seeing, he was going to see it. And whatever it was, it included me.

* * *

Five Socs, two of which had switchblades pointed toward him, surrounded Sodapop. He had a bag next to him that read 'Kroger', so I'm assuming he'd been shopping for food. He was in his usual fighting stance: his fists by his face with his legs spread slightly and knees bent. 

The Soc in the center of the crew started the fight, lashing out at Soda with his fist. Soda ducked to avoid it, but as he did, the other four grabbed him, holding him up to the wall.

Soda thrashed around, trying to gain his freedom, but the four boys help one limb each, making it nearly impossible for him to escape. One took a low blow in the fork of his legs, silencing him long enough for a rag to be tied crudely into his mouth.

The blonde Soc, whose hands were still free, smirked sinisterly, flicking open a new switchblade tucked in his pocket. His blue eyes twinkled and he motioned toward a small red head and a tall brunette; one attached to Soda's leg, the other to his arm to hold him in place. "You can go at will."

Smiling maliciously, the two held their switchblades at ready.

"No." I whispered, then yelled it out. "You leave him alone!" I screamed and dashed forward; ready to take out at least one of the four jerks binding my brother. Bracing myself I tossed all my weight into the blonde leader.

Soda's muffled scream coincided as I lay sprawled on the ground. _I missed?_ I thought dimly. _But- there's no way! I… I went right through him!_

I stood, eyes set in determination. I rushed up to Soda. No one tried to stop me. Nor acknowledged my existence. Slowly, I put my hand out. I felt through the blonde's hand, then stared shocked at the boys. Why couldn't I do anything? "Sodapop…?" I said, helplessly.

His struggling weakened and the boys continued with their knives. I could feel hot tears run down my head as they shoved the blades into his skin, watching in pleasure as he squirmed under each cut. It wasn't right… if he was going down, he should have gone down fighting! But no; they took him underhandedly, using tricks to rid him.

I watched the blades dive into his chest, ripping his skin. A crimson liquid pooled at his feet, quickly gaining in size. "Johnny was right…" I mumbled, sniffing. "There is a lot of blood in people…"

My heart wretched as he slowly gave up. I fell to my knees, holding my head and shaking like a leaf. I couldn't help it. _Don't look!_ I commanded myself, but I couldn't stop myself. I watched in horrified paralysis as my brother was slowly torn the ribbons before my eyes. And the worse thing was there wasn't a damn thing I could do to help him. Tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision and wetting my cheeks. Slowly, I began rocking, my head bowed but my eyes watching Sodapop's brutal demise. "Not Soda, not Soda, please not Soda… Don't hurt Soda!" I chanted, swaying unsteadily.

Finally, Soda's screaming subsided and I sat in numbed silence. I couldn't move even to move over to my brother as the panicked five sprinted away. No one could have. I had just witnessed Sodapop's cold-blooded murder, and I hadn't done a thing to stop it. It wasn't possible, and I refused to believe it. All I knew was the cold emptiness that was in the pit of my stomach. No one would do that to me. No way, no how.

* * *

Finally, Pony stopped screaming. It was unearthily silent in the room and all of us leaned away from him. It'd taken all four of us to hold him down while he was thrashing and when he realized he couldn't move, he had begun to sob, still chanting those words over and over to himself. _We're losing him…_I thought, looking to Darry through misty eyes. His own eyes were colder and more distant than usual, like he almost couldn't cope with Pony's… episode. I don't think any of us could- it just wasn't like him! He was the most plain and normal of all of us… For this to happen. It was just too much to bare. 

I bit my lip to choke back a sob that had been in my throat this horrible ten minutes. I never wanted to see Pony like that again; pathetic; broken; defeated; forlorn, whatever fancy words youse folks use.

I'd sooner die than see him in pain again.


End file.
